Mars
by Isabelle Adamowitz
Summary: A short JezebelCain piece. What if Cain wanted to get rid of those cursed eyes? What if losing them meant seeing so much more?


**Mars **

Disclaimer: Count Cain/ God Child is the intellectual property of Kaori Yuki.

And once again Cain heard the soft swish of a cloak behind him. But he couldn't turn back, not now, not with that man who was behind him between him and Riff's protection. Oh he knew who was following, he had known all along and the pursuer knew that he knew. In fact that was probably why he hadn't touched Cain yet.

Dr. Disraeli could smell Cain's eau de cologne. It left a scented trail behind him and it was reminiscent of aristocracy and all the little luxuries that went with it. It was not Cain's smell alone, no, he had smelled it on others, but he knew he would ever after associate it with its most exquisite wearer. His prey.

The lanterns that dimly lit the streets of London did almost nothing to dispel the growing confusion of the fog, yet they somehow lessened the bite of the chill, even if this was purely psychological. The night softened the capital's ugliness and in these streets, the passers by all wore mist-softened features. All except for one.

Cain was breathing hard, his palms were sweaty slick. He shoved his hands into his coatpockets. Why had he gone out like this, all alone? He had known that the Doctor would be following as he said he would and yet he had told Riff to stay with Merryweather. He felt feverish.

They were walking not two metres apart and yet neither of them acknowledged the other's presence. It was only a matter of time and they both knew it. They passed a man selling roasted chestnuts imported from italy in front of the Grand Palace hotel. Cain pondered what effect a warming mouthful of food would have on him and came to the conclusion that he was indeed very hungry. He couldn't stop. Not yet.

Dr. Disraeli was getting tired of this. He was walking more quickly now, his cloak making more noise, the soles of his shiny black shoes making a faster rhythm on the cobblestones. He caught up with Cain. And it was as if he was expecting the doctor to place his hand on his shoulder. He had braced himself against the feeling but shivered none the less. Out of fear as much as a certain nervous pleasure. He felt his fever burn higher, making his vision faint and his breath catch in his throat.

"Are you that afraid of me?"

Cain gave a swift glance for his only answer and Jezebel noted a faraway quality in the young man's cursed glance. They were glassy and slightly bloodshot.

"Come with me." The doctor said.

They made their way to a grotty little tavern and bowed into the gaping mouth that was the door with its grabbing prostitute teeth. Cain was on the brink of unconsciuousness, his internal fires raging in his head and his stomach. He felt his overheated blood searching for escape, pounding against his temples and his wrists and the walls of his arteries. He knew what as coming. He knew that blood would be released, by incision or any other conceivable means. Which remained to the doctor to choose.

The longhaired physician spoke softly to the barman and was led through the door in the back of the dingy room and through a dark and mouldy smelling courtyard into an empty room, save for a big wooden table and two armchairs.

A young boy followed them and was left to light a fire in the hearth once his employer had left, having received a moderate amount of money. Once he was done he tuned a curious stare towards the silver haired gentleman and the almost fainting young man.

Cain summoned what he could of his strength to wave the boy away. Better not let Jezebel get the idea he needed someone else to torment.

"So here we are, Cain. At last."

Cain staggered toward an armchair and dropped himself into it. He hastily ripped off his gloves and undid his bowtie but didn't wish to give Jezebel any ideas by undressing further.

"How, prey tell me, did you achieve this?" He pulled on his collar to indicate his high temperature.

"Can't you guess?"

"The eau de Cologne… It must have been that."

Jezebel kept his back turned, but Cain could have sworn that, despite his not having said anything, he had heard the doctor smile. After a pause Cain went on.

"I came willingly, I hope you know."

Again he "heard" the corners of the silken haired one's lips lift, while his eyes remained the same.

"I'll be gentle." Jezebel breathed.

He crossed the room and opened a vile he had retrieved from he inside of his jacket, then put a drop on his thumb before tracing it along the young count's lips. Cain waited and closed his eyes.

"This is only the beginning of the end." He said more to himself that the other.

With that he licked the poison and fell into delirium, panting and screaming. He didn't even notice when the doctor had strapped him to the table, didn't feel him insert the scalpel and didn't sense him deposit his eyes into the jar of clear liquid. He was in hell and beyond, he was in heaven, singing. He was nowhere, when he came to.

He felt around. He had been put back onto one of the chairs. There was a bandage covering his eyes. The doctor had held his end of the bargain. He shuddered at the prospect of keeping his. Hadn't he given a fair price already?

A hand placed itself once more on his shoulder, gripping him. It's mate followed suit.

"You will see again. You will see the world again through brown eyes. Ah Cain, I've dreamed of ruining you for so long. And now I've come this one step closer…"

"Claim the rest of your payment and then get me a cab." Cain said drily, or at least he thought.

" You are at my mercy, Cain, I could do whatever I want with you. For tonight I shall call it a truce though."

"Do it. Please."

And Cain realised that he did want this. He had given the mad doctor his eyes for this. True, he had been given other ones, but he had finally admitted to himself that he desired this, more than anything.

"As you wish" and once again he heard the smile.

Jezebel guided Cain's blind hands to his body and over it and the count gave himself over to all consuming lust.

In the blind dark of his mind, Cain felt his world coming alive with imagined colour. The texture of the doctor's skin was saffron yellow, his lips were smooth marble, it's veins adding pleasurable shivers and his hair, so fluid, why, his hair was like a sky of stars.

Jezebel, still guide and master led Cain to him, in him and screamed with him and in that moment, he too saw the stars in Cain's mind and the brightest wasn't a star. The brightest was Mars.


End file.
